Long road to Downton
by CamillaChappers
Summary: Set after EP 7, series 1. Matthew is about to go off to war, but will Mary tell him how she really feels?  Matthew/Mary with also the pairings of Sybil/Branson and Anna/Bates, as they all go through the emotions of war. Please review.
1. Chapter 1

Matthew stared out across the lawn in the shadow of Downton Abbey, thinking of what the future holds – and of course, his recent conversation a few days ago with Lady Mary. He admits to himself that he does not want to leave, but to see her everyday would slowly eat at him. He loves her; of course he does, but he isn't sure who she is anymore. He hopes one day they can maybe talk once again, and maybe something happen, but Evelyn Napier is after her now. His blood boils at the thought of her with someone else, but there is nothing he can do. All is left for him in his immediate future is to go off and fight in the Great War, and he's soon marching off down the lane to the nearest recruiting office.

Mary meanwhile has been studying Matthew out of her window. She had heard he visited Papa to talk (presumably) about the war, and she hadn't dared to walk downstairs – it would be too 'awkward' between the two now. They hadn't in fact spoken since the garden party, when her heart had broken into a million pieces when he informed her he was to leave Downton.

"How stupid I've been!" Mary says to herself, "Why didn't I tell him that I love him?"

It's true – Lady Mary is in love with Matthew. But it's all too late now, he'll surely be going off to war, leaving her never knowing her true feelings, all because she listened to her Aunt instead of her heart. Mary slumped back down on her bed, and cried as she had been every day since the garden party. She cried because of the war, because of Matthew, because of everything. She cried and cried until she had no tears left to cry.

* * *

It had been a week since Matthew had decided to enlist, and today he was off to training camp. He had already bided farewell to his distraught mother, and reassured her that he would return in one piece, before walking up to the big house. Branson was to give him a lift to the station, and when he arrived there, Lord Grantham insisted on having a drink with him. He gladly accepted, knowing he wouldn't be at the house for a long time, and Lord Grantham sent his best wishes. He acquired after the servants, and found Thomas and William had already gone off to war, and some of the maids had decided to enrol as nurses. Sybil had also decided to enrol as a nurse – much against his lordship's wishes- and was to leave soon to train. All too soon, the time came for Matthew to depart. He shook hands with Lord Grantham, who wished him luck and slipped away from the library. He had just stepped out of the front door when he was halted by his name being called.

"Matthew! Wait!"

He spun round to see Mary walking briskly towards him. His eyes widened in shock, and stammered out a reply. Why on earth did Mary want to talk to him?

"Lady Mary" he nodded curtly, as an awkward silence filled the air.

Eventually Mary spoke, bravely looking into his bright blue eyes.

"Papa said you were going off to war," she said, scared of what may happen to him. This was the reason she want to speak to him.

"Yes I am," Matthew replied, puzzled. "Why do you want to talk to me Mary?" He said, harshly and he regretted it immediately.

He looked into Mary's eyes, expecting to see hatred but instead, he saw vulnerability and sadness. He wasn't aware how upset she was after the garden party, and it gave him a glimmer of hope…

Mary thought she was about to cry again as she looked at Matthew, her vision becoming a little blurry before she slowly replied. She had to say what she needed to say, she had to.

"I don't want you to go Matthew…"

"-Mary I have to go my duty!" Matthew replied quickly, interrupting her, "Besides, we aren't even on the best of terms, so why don't you want me to go? You confuse me!" He shot back at her, his breathing heavy after the impact he used in the words.

"BECAUSE I WAS STUPID!" Mary shouted. She knew it wasn't ladylike but right now, she does not care. She didn't care that Branson was watching and she didn't care that her father was now appearing at the doorway with her mother and Sybil to see what was happening. She was focused on the handsome man standing in front of her, who wore a look of upmost surprise on his face.

"W..What?" Matthew managed to stammer back, taken aback by what Mary had just said. She breathed heavily, before continuing.

"I was stupid Matthew, to let you go before. I don't want you to go because I can't face what may happen to you out there, and I was a fool to not accept you! I was a fool to ruin everything between us, and I may confuse you but I now know what I want!" She all but shouted, her emotions running higher as ever, on the verge of spilling all of the angry tears she was holding back.

Matthew was stunned. He had longed for this moment, but his heart broke at the timing – he was just about to head off to war and here was Mary, admitting she was wrong and a fool. He slowly walked towards her, his own deep blue eyes threatening to spill tears. He gently put his hand on Mary's cheek, caressing smoothly, taking her beautiful features. He tipped her chin up so he could look her in the eye.

"Oh dear Mary…" he sighed, "I'll be back, if you'll be here for me."

Mary grabbed the hand on her cheek and kissed it gently, before whispering her reply.

"I'll always be waiting for you Matthew. Always," as more tears crept down her cheeks. Matthew moved hastily wipe them away, before he became aware of the time. He had to say those words he had wanted to say for months, now was the time.

"My darling Mary, I love you," and with that he leant slowly towards her bright lips. They brushed lips slowly, before passion crept in and Mary's arms somehow wound their way around his neck and Matthew's around her waist. They didn't care who saw – they were announcing their love for each other, and they both knew it would be a long time before they saw each other again. They eventually broke apart, resting their foreheads against one other's, before Branson spoke up.

"Erm sir? It's time to go," Branson nervously said, before walking away to the waiting car. Matthew nodded and turned back to Mary. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and took her hands, kissing them both.

"I'll write and I will come back Mary. You can't get rid of me now," He said, with a shy smile on his face. Mary briefly narrowed her eyes in humour, before smiling sadly.

"I'll be waiting Matthew." He kissed her forehead, before slowly turning to the car and clambering in. He turned to face Mary once he was seated, who was ready to wave goodbye. Her father had his arm around her, comforting her. He waved back, smiling sadly before Branson drove away. By the end of the day, he was on the train heading off to war and all of the time he thought of Mary. He would come back, and he would be coming home to Mary.

Mary smiled at Matthew as he was driven away from the house, and as she caught the last glimpse of him she would get in a while, she started to cry once more. But this time, they were tears of joy – they were finally reunited. Even though he was off to war for however long, she knew he would return. She knew he would be coming home.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter - it is really heart-warming to see people enjoy it! I have decided to extend the story, and will be adding more chapters with different pairings and storylines. Hopefully, you will all still enjoy it! Thanks again to those who reviewed it, your reviews were very kind!

_Please review if you have the time - your feedback will be much appreicated!_

* * *

Downstairs in the servants courters of Downton, it had been rather subdued since the announcement of war at the garden party. Everyone had left suddenly, wanting to go home to think about the impending future and decide what to do. The marque was abandoned, the chairs and tables left as everyone had made their way home, even his lordship and family had decided to go back inside – Lord Grantham locking himself inside his library to ponder and discuss with Carson what was his best option. It was said his lordship was planning on returning to war, but Carson hadn't confirmed this to anybody – not even Mrs Hughes. After the garden party, everyone had made their way inside and sat in silence. The young men no doubt were thinking of whether to sign up and the maids thinking what their employers would do now the 'Great War' had started.

And Anna had sat there thinking of one gentleman in particular, the one gentleman she had grown to love from the moment he had arrived at Downton. She saw past his limp and had seen the kind, caring man inside. She was scared for Mr Bates – she hoped deep down that he wouldn't be summoned to war due to his injury, just because she couldn't face losing him. She had already almost lost him, and she was frightened in the fact he may never come home should he go to war. Her eyes blurred up suddenly and she moved quickly to brush any tears away before anyone saw.

"Anna? Whatever is the matter?"

Too late, as she hear Gwen's voice pipe up from next to her. Quickly wiping her eyes, she turned to Gwen, how had a look of concern on her face for her friend.

"I'm fine Gwen," Anna smiled softly, attempting to reassure her, "Just got a fly in my eye that's all."

Gwen nodded and smiled, visibly relieved before turning back to talk to one of the other housemaids. Anna couldn't help but worried about Mr Bates again, who was currently with his lordship – she made a note to talk to him later; he needed to know how she felt.

* * *

She found him later that night outside, sitting on his old barrels – most likely to be thinking of the war, Anna thought to herself. As she stepped outside, he looked up and smiled, a smile of warmth but yet, Anna could see a hint of sadness. She smiled back, and walked over to him.

"Mr Bates."

"Anna."

She smiled again as she reached up, and took her seat next to him. She instantly felt his body warmth by sitting so close to him and all she wanted to do was for him to take her in his arms and never let go. Oh I wish this life was more simple!, Anna would often think to herself. They sat in companionable silence, until Anna had worked up the courage to speak.

"Mr Bates, I'm scared," She said almost hesitantly, worried about what he would say next. He turned her, with an almost questioning work but his soft eyes gave away no curiosity. Just hope.

He smiled softly, before replying.

"Why are you scared?"

Her breath was caught in her throat – what was she meant to say? That she was scared to lose him if he went to war? That she was scared of change? That she was so scared to love him as much as she did, that it could all be lost. She looked nervously down at her hands, before turning back to Mr Bates, who was waiting patiently. It was as if he almost knew what Anna wanted to say.

"I'm scared…" Anna started quietly, before deciding what she needed to say to him, "I'm scared that this war will change everything that nothing will be the same after. But I'm most of scared of losing you."

Silence as she could see Mr Bates digest her words. Had she said the wrong thing? Tears threatened to blur her eyes again, before she felt a hand clasp hers. She looked up, and saw Mr Bates smiling down at her, his eyes reassuring her.

"Oh Anna," he started, stroking her hand softly, "Don't be scared. I'll do everything I can do to come back to Downton, to come back to you."

Anna was startled, as she took the sense of his words in. Her worst fears had been confirmed, he was going to war. She was losing all of her emotion that she had been storing inside her, and she couldn't take it any longer.

"But why must you go Mr Bates? I don't want to ever risk losing you, not again!" She cried, her usual composure melting away.

"I owe it to his lordship. If he goes, which is likely, then I must go with him to serve with him. I owe it to him Anna, he after all stopped me from leaving Downton." He said softly, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing it softly. Anna's heart warmed instantly at his touch and she reached out to stroke his hand.

"I owe him that much Anna. I must go." Mr Bates finished, his hand reaching down to stroke her cheek softly. A few stray tears rolled down her cheek, before he moved to wear them away.

"I'll be back my dear," He smiled, "I'll do everything to come back."

Anna made to speak, but they were interrupted by the gong. She sighed heavily, before turning back to Mr Bates.

"Please do come back Mr Bates."

Mr Bates chastely kissed her cheek, before moving back inside, leaving Anna alone in the courtyard. She told her she must not cry again – it would be un ladylike. Drying her eyes, she quickly followed Mr Bates back into the servant's courters.


	3. Chapter 3

Branson sat in the garage, staring open-mouthed at the letter he was holding in front of him. He hadn't expected a letter like this, but it had arrived and he had no choice in the matter in hand. He folded the letter up and put his head in his hands – how was he going to tell his lordship, let alone Sybil? The two had slowly forged a close friendship, and he was there when she was injured at the count in Rippon. He had felt racked with guilt after, and although he mercifully kept his job, he still could remember when she fell to the ground and just laid there, motionless. The two of them would share endless conversations about politics, though strictly out of view from his lordship and mainly when he was driving her somewhere. At the garden party, there was a brief moment when they just connected – only brief but he knew then he had feelings for her. 'A chauffeur having feelings for his employer's daughter?' Branson shook his head as he thought, 'Society won't allow it.' He sighed heavily, grabbed his jacket and made the walk up to the house. He had to tell Lord Grantham the contents of his letter.

* * *

"You've been summoned to fight?" Lord Grantham asked curiously.

Branson nodded.

"Yes m'lord. I'm to report to the nearest recruitment office in a matter of days, where I'll be sent away."

Lord Grantham looked mildly surprised at Branson's revelation, but understood. He knew that if he hadn't been summoned to fight, Branson probably would have signed up regardless; most of the young men downstairs were planning to.

Lord Grantham stepped towards Branson, smiling gently despite the situation.

"Then you must go. You may leave whenever it suits you."

Branson nodded in reply, bowing his head slightly. He couldn't reveal to his lordship how downcast he was about going, but yet, he feels he must serve his duty.

"Thank you m'lord, I shall leave in a couple of days," Branson spoke politely, before enquiring further, "What will you do about travelling m'lord?"

His lordship chuckled slightly, before turning away to help himself to a glass of scotch.

"We'll have to hire someone in, but it'll only be the girls here," Lord Grantham replied, the last words of the sentence slowly fading away.

Branson had to bite his tongue back to prevent him gasping in surprise – his lordship was going to war?

"You are going to battle m'lord?"

Lord Grantham nodded, before sighing heavily.

"Yes, I am going to be a captain in the local regiment. I may even your captain Branson!" chuckled his lordship, before turning away to his desk.

"I certainly hope so m'lord. If you excuse me, I need to inform Mr Carson of my decision," Branson bowed as he spoke.

"Certainly my fellow," Lord Grantham nodded in understanding – dinner was due soon, and Branson needed to inform the staff downstairs.

"Good luck Branson. God be with you."

Branson bowed again, before swiftly making his exit from the library, a heavy weight on his shoulders.

* * *

Sybil sat on her bed, and cried. She knew she shouldn't crying over the family chauffeur, but there was _something_ there between the pair of them – they bonded over their combined love for Politics, even though her Papa resented it. He was with her celebrating when Gwen got her new job, only then for war to be announced not long after. She was worried about what may happen but now her worst fear had come true – Branson was going off to war. Lord Grantham had casually dropped in the conversation at dinner and instead of joining her sisters in the drawing room after, she had run straight up to her room, ignoring the puzzled looks from her family and the staff. It was in the privacy of her own room that she could let all of her emotions out. She was distraught, she was scared that he would never return and she would never see him again. But what scared her most is that he would leave without ever knowing her true feelings for him. She would tell him, but society said she couldn't – usually she would 'rebel' against this rule but she knew that family wouldn't allow their darling daughter, a Lady, to step out with the Irish chauffeur. Times were changing, but they weren't changing that first for it to be accepted. This is what Sybil cried about; the fact that they could never be together. Her tears fell more rapidly, even when she felt the strong arms of her older sister Mary around her, she just continued to cry. Mary knew what Sybil was going through – her love had just left for war and she was scared too. She knew something was there between Sybil and Branson; she knew when Sybil was injured at Rippon, the concern that Branson portrayed – a chauffeur wouldn't usually be so concerned. She simply just held her younger sister until the tears eventually died away, and Sybil had no more energy or tears left to cry.

A few days later she was standing at the front door of the Abbey, watching a lonely figure walk away from the house. Branson was off to war, along with William. Everyone had lined up outside the house to say goodbye to their favourite chauffeur and footman, wishing him luck – even Lady Violet had made the trip up to the Abbey to say good-bye. He had eventually reached Sybil in the long line of well-wishers, and they held each other's gaze, both of them wanting to cry. She had just wanted to run into his arms and beg him not to go, but she couldn't do so. Her father was watching, her granny was watching, the whole house was watching – it wouldn't be allowed. In case, she had taken his hand and whispered quietly; afraid that all the emotion would spill out.

"Goodbye Branson, and good luck," was all she could muster, her eyes welling up with small tears. Branson nodded, stroked her hand briefly before bowing slightly.

"Goodbye m'lady." And with that, he was off down the drive, and everyone slowly made their way into the house, except for Sybil. She was determined to get every last chance of seeing the man she secretly loved before he disappeared for however long this war would go on for. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she saw him turn around.

Branson took one last look at the house before it would disappear from his view, and was surprised to see Lady Sybil still standing at the front, looking directly at him. It was so very painful for him to say goodbye a few moments ago, when all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and never let her go. But society wouldn't allow it, it couldn't be done. He hastily wiped his tears away, took a last look at Sybil, and turned away from Downton Abbey.

_a/n Thank you again for the kind reviews - please keeping reviewing! It means a lot to me to get feedback, particularly if it's positive! _

_I plan for this story to have a few more chapters so watch this space._


	4. Chapter 4

_a/n: Thanks once again for the reviews and users adding this story to their favourites! It really is very kind of everyone to do so - I hope this story is enjoyable._

_Please keep reviewing!_

* * *

April 1915 – Ypres, Belgium

Matthew sat in the dark trench, writing another letter to Mary. It had been several months since he had left Downton, and he was still alive, still fighting for the chance to get home safely. The 'trenches' were the worst living conditions he had ever come across – muddy, wet, rats crawling everywhere…he hoped that after this war, he would never set eyes on a damned trench ever again. 'No-man's land' was described as 'hell on earth' by some of the men in his regiment; once you stepped foot out in the middle between the British trenches and the German trenches, you never knew whether you would come out alive. It scared Matthew every time the whistles from the sergeants and captains blew, the time you had to clamber up the ladder and shoot at every enemy target you could see. Matthew hated killing people he didn't know, but this was his duty. One he hoped never to do again at the end of it all.

He sat by a small light attempting to write a letter. He tried to write to Mary whenever he could, and he kept the letters from her in this army jacket – her letters was what was keeping him alive. He was living to get back home to her – and of course Mother – but he missed Mary terribly. He smiles to himself every time he thinks about the moment they shared a kiss before he left for this hell, when they both saw sense past all of the titles and the big houses. He loved hearing from her, hearing all of the news from back home and hearing what she was doing every week – it kept him going. He so badly wanted to go back home, and run into her arms and never let her go again. That's all he wanted. He turned back to his paper and continued to write some more to his love, before he was interrupted by Branson and William entering the trench. He smiled warmly at both of them, he was glad he was with them – even though they were servants at Downton, here everyone was the same. They were all soldiers fighting for the same cause, and they all got along well; it did take a while for Branson and William to stop calling Matthew 'sir' but they had got there eventually! The two of them sat down next to him, and started a conversation.

"Writing to Lady Mary then?" William asked, before Branson nudged him in the ribs, "Ow! What the dickens was that for?"

Branson chuckled before answering jokingly.

"Who do you think he was writing to? Of course it's going to be Lady Mary," Branson chuckled, with Matthew joining in too – the times he spent with the pair of them were the only times he really smiled in the trenches now. Oh and getting letters from Mary.

"Yes I am writing to Mary William," Matthew smiled, before looking back down to write some more.

"Have you heard anything from Daisy?" Branson asked curiously.

William proudly patted his breast pocket of his jacket, his wide smile infectious to anyone who saw it.

"Yes, we've been writing every week!" William replied. All three chuckled, before their sergeant poked his head through the make shift curtain by the entrance to the trench. All three of them stood up quickly and saluted, careful not to bash their heads on the muddy 'ceiling'.

"If your quite finished with your joking around!" the sergeant boomed at them, "Grab your guns, we're going over the top!"

The three men quickly grabbed their guns and helmets before making their way along the trench to join the rest of their regiment. Matthew had the same feeling he always had before they went under the barbed wire and into 'no-man's land' – he felt sick, scared, nervous. But at the same time, he knew Mary would think he was very noble and brave and that's what made me know he would come home. He quickly grabbed a letter from the inside of his jacket and kissed it, before focusing on the task ahead. William and Branson next to him looked petrified, and Matthew quickly whispered words of good luck to both of them. They both nodded weakly, before a booming voice was heard once more.

"Fix bayonets!" All of what was heard across the tents was the fixing of bayonets to the top of guns, ready for battle.

"Load guns!" Matthew checked his rifle was fully loaded before closing his eyes briefly. He could hear the booms of the big guns, firing shells over at the German trenches, and then they slowly faded – it was the front patrol's turn now. He thought of his Mother, he thought of everyone back at Downton and he then thought of Mary, her beautiful face in his mind. He has to get home.

Then the sheer blast of whistles from the leaders go, and suddenly he's rushing forward, up the ladder and he's into 'no-man's land'. And all the while, he's still thinking about Mary.

Branson was right next to Matthew when the whistles go and he's soon following Matthew into 'no-man's land', roaring with the rest of the regiment as they race towards the German front line. His mind quickly drifts back to Sybil – he misses her terribly and back in the trench, he does the same as Matthew. He closed his eyes, and imagined her and their conversations before he had left. He regrets not telling her how he felt, and he hopes this battle isn't he last, so he can maybe write to her or ask Lord Grantham how he is. He has kept his love for Sybil quiet though – one word of it to Lord Grantham and he would probably go for a court martial! No, he keeps fighting on, determined to see her again and he won't make a mistake next time he does – he'll tell her exactly how he feels and he doesn't care what society thinks.

But for now, he's running – dodging shells being rained down by the German's until they stopped and their front line is hurtling towards them. Branson aims his gun and he's firing, firing at any German he can see. Beside him, he can see fellow soldiers of his regiment going down like flies, and he's picking off German's, in anger for killing his comrades. He's not the Branson everyone knows back at Downton – this war has changed him and he's angry that this war ever started, that people are needlessly dying. He hears a cry beside him as he falls into a shell hole, mud blurring his vision. He continues to fire from the top of the hole, and looks to find the source of the cry. He feels sick when he does find the source – William.

"NO!" He screams, as William lies writhing in agony on the floor, blood streaming from his stomach. He can't believe it, his anger rises again as he sees his friend is lying there, dying. He gets up and blindly shoots, screaming as he does before he reaches William. As he does, he hears cries of 'Retreat!', and they are all swarming back to their trenches. Branson picks up William, looking down at him as he tries to run back with the wounded William.

"Branson…" William's voice barely a whisper as the light from his eyes slowly fades away.

"Shh Will, it's going to be alright. Your going to be fine," Branson tries to reassure him, but the next time he looks at William, he knows it's too late. His eyes are now empty, motionless and he goes limp in Branson's arms. Branson is speechless – he's angry and upset that his friend is dead. He tries to hold his tears back but fails, as he drops back down into the trench, carrying William's now motionless body. He cries silently as he finds the medic team, who confirm his fears and take him away on a stretcher, covered up. He says his own goodbye to his friend and then he's gone. He hopes to God that Matthew is safe, and he puts his head in his hands as he sits where they had sat little more than an hour before – the three of them having a laugh. He's relieved when Matthew comes into the trench; he could have hugged the man as he entered; out of breath and muddy but mercifully alive. Matthew instantly senses something is wrong, and asks the inevitable.

"William…Where's William?"

Branson shakes his head, and all of his tears come spilling out again. He manages to choke out an answer, before wiping his tears away from his mud and blood streaked face.

"He's gone. He's not coming back."

Matthew clasps a hand over his mouth and the pair of them sit in stunned silence, knowing now they have to survive.

* * *

Bates wants to be back at Downton – he misses Anna terribly. They write to each other constantly, but he wants to see her beautiful face again. He doesn't mind life so much at headquarters with Lord Grantham – he's given three hot meals a day and a comfortable bed to sleep for the night so compared to those in the trenches, he's lucky. He's lucky to be there at all, with his limp and all, but Lord Grantham insisted that he went with him. The headquarters isn't far from the front line, and he can hear the soft boom of the big guns at night when the battles are raging on. He worries for his friends down in the trenches; Branson, William and Matthew, along with all of the other men in the Downton regiment. The regiment is now a real mix-match of regiments, as some regiments are now too small to run on their own. He hates the fact that men are needlessly dying, and he's happy to stay with his Lordship. They occasionally visit the front line and see the troops – a way of raising morale. He often has a good conversation with Branson and the others, and they swap tales before his Lordship is done with his business. He can't fight in the battle because of his leg injury, and the stories he hears make him glad he doesn't. Plus, he knew Anna would permit it. Oh how he misses her. The night out in the courtyard when she admitted how scared she was scared him too – he doesn't want her to leave her even again after this war. They have only just started stepping out and yet, he's here fighting his damned war! He prays that it ends soon, so he can see his Anna again.

Today, he is off to visit troops on the frontline with his Lordship, and as soon as he sets foot in the trench, he can sense something is wrong. They eventually find Matthew and Branson with a few other unknown troops, and he greets them heartily with his Lordship. He however notices someone is missing.

"Where's William?" His Lordship asks cautiously, and the half –hearted smiles on Matthew and Branson's faces disappear instantly. Branson looks down at his boots, and after a silence, Matthew speaks.

"He's….gone, sir. He's gone."

Lord Grantham's face displays shock as he digests the news, and Bates has to turn away. William. Dead. He's incredibly saddened to hear that the boy he had turned to look after at Downton, the nice young lad who everyone took a liking too, is gone forever. He finds it hard to digest the information, and his Lordship is the same; neither know quite what to say. Eventually Branson mutters that he died during his duty, and William will be remembered as a brave man. Mr Bates notes that Branson is particularly distraught over the death of his friend, but is staying strong. After a while, Lord Grantham and Mr Bates leave. He shakes both Matthew's and Branson's hand and gives them words of hope and encouragement.

"You both are very brave, and I know everyone back home will be proud of you. God be with you," Bates says to the pair of them, smiling softly before turning away. That night, he thinks about poor William and what a kind fellow he was. His thoughts turn back to Downton and the rest of the servants – he can imagined they will be extremely saddened over this latest news. All Mr Bates has to do now is get home safely, so he can be with his dear Anna once more.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: So sorry about the last chapter, I may have been emotional for some - it was pretty angsty. _

_Please keep reviewing - I cannot wait for all of you to see the rest of this story!_

_

* * *

_April 1915

It had almost been one year since Matthew had left Downton to go fight, and every day, Mary thought of him. She couldn't possibly imagine the hell he was going through, and she was scared for him. She would read the paper every day, not wanting to see his name on the wounded or killed list, but so far so good. She would sigh with relief if he wasn't on there, which meant it was possibly another day closer to him coming home. She was glad they had resolved things before he had gone – she would have hated herself bitterly if she had never told him. It frightened her, the thought of Matthew never coming home but she kept her faith. They wrote to each other whenever they could, and Mary would wait eagerly for Anna to hand her the post every morning to see if he had written. He told her stories of the horrible experiences he saw in the 'trenches' – as they were called – and she told him tales of what was happening in Downton. They always ended their letters expressing their love for one another, and how much they missed each other.

Today was a dark day in the house though. News had reached them that the footman, William, had been killed whilst in battle, and the news had shocked everyone. The servants were understandably distraught when they were told, having known William the best and we were all comforting each other. Mary and her family – particularly her mother – were also very saddened by the latest news; they had both liked William a great amount and it was a shock for everyone. It reminded them all that anyone could be killed out there, no matter how kind hearted they were, and that's what scared Mary the most – that the last time they saw each other or the last time he wrote, could be the last time Mary ever spoke to Matthew. And despite the sometimes cold exterior, Mary was hurting inside.

* * *

It had almost been one year since Mr Bates had left Downton with Lord Grantham to fight, and Anna had tried to gone on with her work at the house as usual. Some days this work, other days it didn't. She missed Mr Bates terribly, and even though they wrote, it was nothing compared to seeing him every day, seeing his warm smile. They had said goodbye to each other discreetly before he had left with Lord Grantham, again promising her that he would do everything he could to return to Downton. Even though Anna knew he would be relatively safe in the job he was doing, she was still petrified for him. He seemed to finding the experience well Mr Bates, as he told her in her letters and Lord Grantham was said to be a fine captain – in battle and in headquarters, where the two were often based. All of the Downton men were in the same regiment but Lord Grantham was rarely on the front lines – he and Mr Bates helped in the headquarters, trying different strategies to outwit the German's. Matthew and Branson were also in the same regiment, so all of the Downton men fought together – fought to get back home to the same place.

For Anna though, life was same most days. With Lady Sybil off at the local hospital most days, and the other two daughters and her Ladyship off doing various things in the village, there were hardly any meals or parties to prepare anymore – all the men in the village had practically gone off to war. Lady Violet and Mrs Crawley both lived at the big house – it was easier for both of them, now their footman and valets had gone to war so it made sense really. They still didn't see eye to eye the pair of them, but they were a bit better. As for the servants themselves, Gwen started at Downton – her job wasn't to start until after the war, for all of the workers had gone to fight. Gwen didn't mind too much despite losing her dream – she liked Downton and she would have to be patient. Everyone was rocked by the news of William's death – they had all preferred William to Thomas and he was popular with everyone. Daisy in particular was distraught, and wouldn't come out of her room the day the servants found out, too upset to see anyone. Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes were both shocked by the news, but managed to carry on through the days to run the house. But this scared Anna – she was scared that the next piece of news they heard would be the death of someone else close, and she did not want that person to be Mr Bates. She prayed every night for his safety, praying that he would come home to her safely and that they could finally be together one more.

* * *

It had almost been one year since Branson had left to fight, and Sybil regretted not telling him how she felt every day. She worried that he wouldn't be coming home, that he will never know truly how deep her feelings were for him. It was weird for her not seeing him drive the car; instead they had hired a chauffeur to drive the cars and he hardly spoke to Sybil. She missed the conversations they shared about Politics, and although she attended various meetings in the village, they didn't interest her at the moment. Her mind was too focused on Branson the majority of the time, and she missed him terribly. She would often think back to the time when he left the house, the look on his face when he turned back to see the house one final time before he left…she dreaded to think that may be the last time she ever saw her handsome chauffer's face and she prayed that it wasn't. But Sybil was glad she had somewhere to go during the day time, and that she wasn't stuck at the house. Her mother was visibly worried about Papa, as for Mary with Matthew, and even the servants were upset – well how can you blame them, thought Sybil.

Not long after war had been announced, Sybil had decided to train as a nurse with the encouragement of Mrs Crawley. Now Dr Watson had gone back as a captain – with that vile Thomas in his ranks – Mrs Crawley and Granny had full responsibility of the hospital, which had been turned into a hospital for all of the injured local men. Her father had been against her training before he went off to fight, but she was determined to do her part for the war. She hoped that Branson wouldn't be brought here one day at all, but she liked to help bring others back to health. Sometimes it was quite traumatic but other times, she felt great satisfaction from helping others heal. She knew if Branson was here, he would be proud of her and that's what kept her going through all of the tough times at the hospital. She hadn't written to Branson; she thought it may seem foolish to write to him and that her family may not approve but today, she had decided to have one of her rebellious times. On the way to the hospital, she posted a letter for Branson and she hoped that he would reply. And she hoped that he would be coming home safely whenever this torrid war ended.


	6. Chapter 6

December 1917

This war has gone on for too long, thought Matthew, as he sat cleaning his gun in the trench. They had been constantly moving trenches to other front lines, but they were settled back in Ypres once again. He quite liked the town when they had a week's break every so often – he and Branson would go to the pub with the other men and act as they would back home in Downton. God, he missed Downton terribly. It had been over 3 years since he had last seen Mary, and he was going mad at how long they had been apart – how he managed to keep sane, Matthew would never know. This war was bad enough to make anyone go mad, and every year the same story came around.

"It'll be over by Christmas," the captains and sergeants would say, only for the Christmas's to go past with no avail and the fighting continued. Matthew was gradually getting more and more annoyed as the weeks went past and the shelling didn't stop, the gunfire didn't stop, nothing. They were still living in disgusting trenches, and Matthew just wanted to go home to Mary. They still continued to write to each other every week, and his mood would instantly be lifted if he was handed a letter bearing her beautiful handwriting on the front. He also wrote to Mother – who was constantly fretting – so he lived so he could write another letter to Mary and Mother. He always dreaded the last letter he had sent to her could be his last, but he was doing everything in his power to make sure that was not the case.

It had been a couple of years since William's death, and it was hard for a while afterwards. They still thought of him, but they knew he was in a safer place now; not in this hell they were fighting in. Branson's moods had been lifted by the unexpected arrival of a letter for him, addressed from Lady Sybil of all people! Matthew knew the moment he saw Branson's eyes lit up as he opened the letter – he had asked Branson if he had feelings for Sybil but had flatly refused. That was until Matthew saw him writing a letter to her and Branson had eventually admitted, worried that Matthew would have thought differently of him. Matthew reassured him that this wasn't the case, and he was glad Branson was now far happier.

His trail of thought went back to Mary, before Matthew heard a 'plop' land in the trench nearby. Whatever could that be? Matthew thought, before a shrill cry came from the entrance of the trench.

"GAS! GAS! PUT YOUR MASKS ON!"

Matthew cursed as he fumbled for his gas mark in his kit, hands shaking with fright. He had heard stories of the gas the German's used, and it wasn't pleasant. Slowly, he saw a mist creep under the entrance and he was soon running, despite to find clean air, pulling his mask over his head at the same time. He continued to run, but everywhere was a yellow fog, advancing towards him with no chance of stopping. He finally got the mask on, snapping in down his face but it was too late – he was suddenly coughing, retching as the gas had found a way in. He couldn't stop coughing, his eyes streaming as he struggled to see. Matthew cried out in pain, and started to crawl on all fours, wanting to find a way out. He panicked, as the gas took control of his body and he eventually came into a spot of clear air. He wrenched the mask off his face, gasping at the air as if it was water whilst being violently sick. He suddenly became aware of the sound of a gun cocking above him, and through his streaming eyes, he saw a German standing on the lip of the trench, rifle aimed directly at him.

'This is it,' Matthew thought, 'This is the end'. He slowly closely his eyes, waiting for the evitable to happen. He thought of home, he thought of his Mother, he thought of dear Mary…

Only no shot came, no bullet was racing towards him. He slowly reopened his eyes, and peered up at the German. He looked curiously at the man, who looked sullen-eyed and weary, as he lowered the rifle and raised his hand, pointing away from the trench. Matthew couldn't believe his eyes, and the German then spoke.

"Go Tommy go."

Matthew didn't need telling twice, and he steadily got up before hobbling away. It was only at the safety of a medic team, that he allowed himself to succumb to darkness and passed out.

* * *

He had been in hospital for two days now, and Matthew was already bored. He had been replaying the encounter with the German in his mind ever since, and struggled to think why the man had taken pity on him. He wasn't complaining of course, but Matthew being Matthew, he was curious. After passing out in the safe hands of the medic team, he was brought to the local hospital and assessed. It turned out he was one of the 'lucky' ones; the doctor announced he only had a small bout of gas despite his coughing and retching and was to make a full recovery. He was ordered to stay in the hospital for five days at least – once the coughing had subsided – before he was to return to the front line. He admits that he doesn't mind having a comfortable bed for a few nights compared to what he has been sleeping in, but he gets rather bored during the day.

Though today, he had Branson for company – Branson had done the same as Matthew and had ran for his life; being a little younger, Branson managed to get away safely and get his gas mask on sooner than Matthew. He had been terribly worried about Matthew, and was relieved to hear he was alive. Wounded but alive. The regiment was off the front line for it's week off, and from Branson had told him, Matthew was incredibly lucky to be alive.

"The same attack killed more than half of the regiment," Branson said, with a grave look on his face, as he sat at the side of Matthew's bed, "We were the lucky ones."

Matthew nodded, before clearing his throat to speak.

"Certainly, though I still don't understand why that German pitied on me," Matthew said thoughtfully, before Branson snorted.

"I don't know why you are complaining – you wouldn't be here right now if he had done so," Branson spoke, as Matthew nodded in agreement. He would be in a make-shift grave if the German had killed him, and he was extremely lucky not to be. The doctors had thought it remarkable that he was still alive, and the fact he would be back on the front line in a matter of days. The two continued to talk, about Downton, about Mary and Sybil, until one of the nurses informed Branson his visiting time was up. Branson shook Matthew's hand, and made to leave before Matthew called him back.

"Wait, I need you to do a favour for me…"


	7. Chapter 7

December 1917

It was over breakfast that she heard the news, the news she had always dreaded to hear. She sat at the dining table with her two sisters, not really interested in her fruit she was pushing around her plate. Sybil was talking away about her days at the hospital, and Edith didn't say much. She never really liked Edith, and the two had been at daggers with each other ever since the whole affair with Pamuk had been revealed. But that was behind her now, and all Mary thought about was Matthew. A clunk of metal shook Mary out of her thoughts, and looked across as Edith was looking wide-eyed down at the newspaper, dropping her fork in shock onto her plate.

"Edith, do be careful!" Mary said in horror, rolling her eyes at her sister's madness. She expected a remark to be shot back at her, but nothing. Just Edith continuing to stare wide-eyed at the newspaper in front of her, not saying a word.

"Edith? Whatever is the matter?" Sybil questioned, before following Edith's eyes to the page she was looking at. Then the same reaction – Sybil gasped in shock and clapped her hands to her mouth. Mary registered the page they were on; it was the lists of the killed and wounded, and she instantly felt sick.

"Sybil? Is it Papa?" She was relieved when Sybil weakly shook her head, but the look of shock did not leave her face. That's when Mary stood up abruptly and marched over, grabbing the paper out of Edith's hands.

"Mary, I don't think you should…" But Edith's warning was in vain, she was too late. Mary looked down on the list, and saw the name she did not want to ever see on this list.

"_Private Matthew Crawley – Downton Regiment"_

Mary's legs almost collapsed in horror, as she clasped a hand to her mouth to stop her crying and screaming out. She cautiously looked along, only to let out a light cry of relief. It said wounded; not killed, wounded. At least he's alive! She let the paper fall from her hands, as she stood in pure shock as she became aware of Sybil wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder and she distantly hear her voice.

"It may not be bad Mary, keep the faith," Sybil smiled softly, before rubbing her sister's shoulder comfortingly. Mary slowly nodded, before walking out of the room. She needed time alone, time to think. Matthew injured…she hate to think how bad he was, how broken he could be…She let out a small sob when she reached her room, collapsing on her chair as she swallowed the thought over. This is what worried her so very much, that her dear Matthew would be wounded, hurt in battle and she couldn't do anything to help. Christ, she couldn't even visit him! She prayed that he was not seriously harmed, but she knew she would love him all the same no matter what state he came home in – she wanted him to come home. She missed his touch, his smile, everything about him, and yet it was all threatened with this latest revelation. She looked out across the lawn, hoping that one day soon, he would be walking down that driveway and into the house, and back into her arms. Her thoughts were soon broken by a soft opening of the door, and a startled gasp followed. Mary swiftly turned, and saw Anna standing there, sheets in hand ready to make up her room.

Anna quickly recovered, and nodded her in Mary's direction.

"Oh sorry m'lady, I thought you were at breakfast. I beg your pardon, I'll just go- "

Mary interrupted her, holding a hand up to silence Anna with a soft smile on her face.

"No Anna it's fine, do come in," Mary said, gesturing into the room. Anna nodded and began to set about working on the room. A comfortable silence filled the room, and Mary continued to look out across the lawn, her thoughts drifting back to Matthew. Her poor Matthew.

"So m'lady, how are you today?" Anna asked politely, sensing something was wrong with her ladyship. Mary sighed, before finding herself collapsing in her chair again, small silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

"M'lady!" Anna gasped, running over and placing a reassuring arm around her ladyship. Usually Anna would feel uncomfortable about this, but she could tell Lady Mary needed someone there to help her through whatever was troubling her. Mary calmed down eventually, hastily wiping her eyes and chuckling as she caught Anna's eye.

"Oh Anna, I'm sorry for being in this state, it must be awfully embarrassing," Mary apologized, thanking Anna for her kindness. Anna smiled back; Mary had always liked Anna, ever since the whole business with Mr Pamuk and Mary had a lot of time for her. Since the war had started, they often chatted together and got on well.

"It's not embarrassing m'lady, not at all," Anna warmly said back, patting her ladyship on her shoulder gently. Mary smiled back, before quickly turning downcast once more.

"It's just…I saw in the paper today…Matthew has been wounded…and…" Mary broke off, not wanting to start crying once again in front of Anna. Anna gasped slightly, before remembering her place and continued to comfort Lady Mary. She was shocked at the news, and only prayed that Mr Crawley was alright. She liked Mr Crawley – he was a very well respected, polite young man and she knew he thought the world of Mary, as Mary did for him.

"I'm sure he'll be fine m'lady," Anna replied cautiously, squeezing Mary's shoulder slightly, "He'll be back home in no time."

Mary chuckled slightly, before turning to Anna with hope and gratitude in her eyes.

"I certainly hope so!" Mary chuckled, before they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Anna leapt up from her seat next to Mary, and Sybil entered with a look of concern etched on her face. She was holding a letter out for Mary, which Mary took instantly, hoping it was from Matthew. But the handwriting on the front was different, it wasn't his writing. Puzzled, she ripped open the letter.

_Your ladyship,_

_Please do not be alarmed on receiving this letter – I am writing this on behalf of Mr Crawley. He understands that you may sometime soon read in the newspapers back home that he will most be on the wounded list._

_Mr Crawley asks me to tell you not to panic – he is not badly hurt, and by the time you have got this letter, he will most likely be out of hospital. I have seen him myself m'lady, and he is fighting fit! I shan't enclose what happened, as he has also told me to say he will write as soon as he is able to. He did not want you to panic, so this letter is to reassure you._

_Hope all is well back in Downton._

_Branson_

Mary looked up at Sybil, who was looking very puzzled indeed – Mary knew she had been writing to Branson. But yet, a wave of relief washed over Mary; he was ok, he was going to be fine. She could cry out with joy, and she smiled at both Sybil and Anna. Sybil had gotten over her initial surprise, and took a joyful Mary into her arms, which now had an infectious smile spread across her face. Anna watched the scene with a growing smile on her face; she was happy that Matthew was safe for Lady Mary's sake and soon made her excuses, and left the two sisters in peace. And all of the time, she couldn't help but think that could be Mr Bates' name on that list one day and she dreaded that thought as she headed back to the kitchen.


	8. Chapter 8

_Sorry for the short chapter - this is building to the last few chapters! Thank you everyone who has reviewed this story and favourited it, it really is very kind and great to see how many of you like this story! I can assure you - the last few chapters are happy! :)_

* * *

11th November 1918

Matthew and Branson sat in their trench, the time slowly making its way around Matthew's watch he was wearing. It was battered, but was still working after this long four years. There had been a closely fought battle the night before, and the two were relieved to be sitting back in their trench. Branson puffed away on a cigarette – it was the norm for soldiers to smoke their way through the war, but Matthew resented it. Mary, after all, wouldn't want him to be seen with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He smiled to himself, as he so often did when he thought of her. It was strange to him; they had hated each other when he first arrived but now, the two of them were in love, something no-one could have predicted at the beginning of his time at Downton. He was grateful he had the chance to go to Downton, and had meant it when he told Lord Grantham he wanted Downton to be his future. Yes he had said to Mary he wanted to go back to his childhood home of Manchester, but that had all changed once more. He only wanted to go back to Downton, and see his family. And Mary of course.

Branson was also deep in thought – he was thinking about Sybil. They had written frequently, and each letter ended with the words 'with love'. Branson hadn't really taken the words to mean much, but he found himself longing to see her handwriting once more; like Matthew was with Mary. He would find himself thinking about her all the time, and he knew when he was back at Downton he had to tell her how he felt. Sure, she would probably hate him smoking but he kept calm at the worst of times, along with the letters from Sybil. He sat in deep thought, until a fellow from their regiment burst in, his face sporting a wide grin.

"The war's over lads! We can go home!" He excitedly burst out, before clapping Matthew and Branson on the back. Matthew and Branson glanced at each other, happily grinning as they hugged each other, as happy as they had been for the entire war. Finally, they could go home.

An hour later, Mr Carson was walking through the house very briskly with a telegram tightly in his hand. He was looking for her Ladyship, and eventually found her in the drawing room with Lady Mary and Sybil. He burst in, forgetting momentarily his formalities before quickly bowing. He was brimming with excitement, as he handed the telegram to Lady Cora. She ripped it open, before clapping her hand to her mouth and jumping up, a wide smile spreading across her features.

"Oh girls! The war is over!" She burst out, turning to hug her two daughters present with her. Mary and Sybil could scarcely believe it – it was all over after four long, painful years! Mary rejoiced in the fact she would finally see Matthew once more after so long, oh how happy she was! She hugged her sister tightly, both shredding tears of joy. Their Papa would be also coming home, and for Sybil, the chauffeur she had feelings for would also be coming home! Oh how happy they all were, finally it was all over. They would breathe sighs of relief, relieved and joyful that their loved ones would be coming home.

Down in the servants courters, everyone was rejoicing – everyone was hugged one another, laughing and smiling as they let all of their emotions out. Even Mrs Hughes let her guards down, and was seen smiling broadly with Mr Carson and the rest of the housemaids. Anna couldn't help but feel relieved; she knew Mr Bates was relatively safe with his Lordship but she worried all the same. She was happy that he would finally be coming home, coming back to her. She silently slipped out to the courtyard, sitting on the barrels where she had shared her conversation with Mr Bates before he had left for war. She could almost feel the touch of his hand gently on hers as he had held it softly, caressing and stroking her hand. Her heart had soared at the touch of his hand, and she couldn't wish for more than for Mr Bates to walk through those doors and take her swiftly into his arms. She simply couldn't wait to be with him again, O'Brien was driving her insane and she needed him to keep her sane. She allowed a broad grin to spread across her face, as it sunk in – her Mr Bates was coming home, home to Downton.


	9. Chapter 9

Matthew could barely contain his excitement as the car drove towards the big house; it felt so good to be back home after so long away. The moment he stepped off the train, he knew that this was his home, and he never wanted to leave again for a while. He missed the village too much, and of course Mary. He couldn't keep the silly grin off his face as they grew closer and closer towards the house, and he was getting closer and closer to seeing her once more. He couldn't wait to see her beautiful face that he hadn't seen in four long years, he couldn't wait to simply hold her once more. It had been too long without his Mary. All of the men in the car shared the same excitement as Matthew – Lord Grantham sat in the front happily chatting away to the hire chauffeur, whilst Matthew was sharing the back with Branson and Mr Bates – both of whom were sharing smiles as they trundle on through the village. Lord Grantham had pulled some strings to make sure of the men from the big house went together, though it felt weird coming home without William. All of the men still wore their Khaki uniforms, and some of the villagers even applauded the car as they went past, acknowledging the bravery they had all shared. Matthew tipped his hat off, and smiled at the various villagers, and soon they were turning into the driveway and the big house came into view. He could see Lord Grantham grin broadly, and Matthew replicated his smile – it felt so good to see Downton once more! He could see everyone was lined up outside to greet them – family, servants everyone – and his heart started beating faster and faster as the house grew closer.

Waiting on the steps, Mary's heart was doing the same – she had been waiting patiently for the last ten minutes or so as they waited for the car to come into sight. Everyone was excited that their men were finally coming home, and Mary grew more and more excited as she waited for Matthew. Oh long it had been since they had last since each other, how she had missed him! She couldn't wait to be in his strong arms once more, and see his bright blue eyes twinkling back at her. She was glad she had admitted to him her love for him, though it pained her to be so far apart from him for so long. She had also been very upset when she heard that he had been injured, but she said to herself she will love him the same no matter if he had been horribly injured – she was just glad he was coming home. She stood waiting for his arrival, along with her sisters and mother, with the servants lined up to her left. Ripples of excitement chorused through the crowd as they saw the car turn into the driveway and slowly make the way up the driveway to where everyone was gathered. Mary couldn't help but let the smile spread on her face as she was closer to seeing her Matthew after so long. Slowly the car stopped, and her father leapt out grinning broadly. He ran to Mama, taking her up in his arms kissing her on the forehand as he laughed with her. Mary couldn't stop the tears flowing of joy as he then gathered his daughters in a tight-knit hug, all of them laughing. Soon, she released her hold from the hug and turned to face the car, where her eyes meant his.

Matthew had let Mary be reunited with her father, as he jumped from the car and ran to hug his wife. Matthew followed, stepping out of the car and waited for Mary to be released from his Lordship's tight grip. Mary eventually was released, and soon her gaze met his. They stood there at first, a moment flickering between them as a grin slowly spread across his face. He was pretty sure his smile was reflected on Mary's face, as she grinned back at him before beginning to run down the steps. Matthew dropped his bag, and ran to meet her halfway, smiling and laughing. He stopped as Mary launched herself into his arms, laughing and burying her face in his war jacket as he smiled, a broad grin on his face. He held on to her tight, not wanting to ever let her go again, breathing in her perfume. Oh how he had missed that smell, that lovely smell! They continued to stand there, smiling and laughing before they eventually pulled apart and gazed into each other's eyes. Mary was shredding small tears of joy as he kept his arms firmly around her, clinging onto her as she did with him, as she slowly brought her hands to cup his face, stroking his cheek as they didn't break eye contact. Matthew smiled down at Mary, and he slowly let go of her, before holding out his hand for her. She smiled back before slipping her hand in his, as they made their way inside, following the rest of the household.

* * *

As the car had pulled up on the driveway, Anna could feel her heart beating a million times over as she was moments away from seeing her Mr Bates once again. She had to refrain from running at him – the servants had to stay composed, keep their dignity, but all Anna wanted to do was run into his arms. It had been four long years since she had seen him last, and her breath was caught in her throat as she spotted him step out of the car. He caught her eye, and smiled broadly, Anna replicating the smile. She was resisting the urge to run at him, until Lord Grantham's words rung out like a sweet song to her ears.

"Forget about formalities, go and greet your fine fellows!" Anna didn't need telling twice, breaking into a run as Mr Bates dropped his cane and opened his arms with a huge grin spreading across his tired features. She giggled as she hugged him fiercely, smiling broadly as she felt his arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, stroking his hair which she was sure had grown longer. All too soon, they let go of each other as the other servants were eager to say hello to Mr Bates, who was soon in a flurry of hand-shakes. Anna just stood back, and smiled – she had plenty of time later to talk to him and she soon walked over to Branson, whose gaze was fixed on Lady Sybil. He looked slightly downcast, and she suddenly understood – he was in love with Lady Sybil. She patted him on the arm, and Branson pulled his gaze away to smile at Anna, who pulled him into a hug. The rest of the servants began to make their way inside, as Branson tagged along behind, not wanting to leave his sight of Sybil. Anna soon caught up with Mr Bates and slipped her hand into his. He felt her do so and smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling back.

Later that evening, the pair sat out in the courtyard as they had done before he left both smiling like Chesire cats as they both felt relief that they were back together once more. Mr Bates took Anna hands and caressed it softly, looking up to smile at her.

"Oh Anna," he said softly, his words like velvet to Anna, "How have I missed you!"

Anna smiled back, increasing her hold on his hand, as if she was afraid he was about to leave again.

"I've missed you too Mr Bates! This place has seemed dull without you, I ask now, never leave again!" She said, the last words trembling. Mr Bates sensed her despair, and lifted her chin up to face him, her eyes swimming with tears.

"I'm not going anywhere Anna. Not if you're not with me, I missed you too much to ever do that again," He said, smiling broadly at her, wiping some of her tears that had spilled down her cheeks away. He could never leave Anna again, his heart was in too much pain to ever be apart from her again for so long. Wherever she went, he would be with her, all of the time. Anna wiped her tears anyway, as she smiled gently, stroking his hand.

"I'm so glad you are safe, I don't know what I would do if you didn't…" Mr Bates tightened his grip on her hand, reassuring her, before she continued, "I mean, after we heard about William…I really hoped you wouldn't be next."

He turned to face her, taking her hands in his, his eyes reassuring her though he was near crying himself.

"Oh my dear Anna…I did everything I could to make sure that wouldn't happen. I was always going to come home to you, because I love you." Anna's eyes lit up as she heard those three words. They were three simple words, but that meant so much to her. She launched herself into his arms for the second time that day, and smiled broadly.

"Oh Mr Bates! I love you too," She said, pulling back to smile at him, before he pressed his lips to hers, both silently promising never to leave each other's side ever again.


	10. Chapter 10

_Second to last chapter everyone! (Well techially this is the last chapter BUT I'm going to do an epilogue :)) so watch this space!_

_Big thank you to everyone who has reviewed, subscribed, favourited this story etc...I'm really pleased you all liked it! Enjoy this chapter._

_

* * *

_Branson had got out of the car, following Lord Grantham and Matthew, stepping out onto the gravel. It felt good to be back at Downton, be back into familiar surroundings. He felt flattered that everyone had lined up to see his and the other's homecoming, and he was soon hit by Gwen and Daisy hugging him tightly, smiling and laughing at his initial surprise. He soon recovered his composure, and hugged back; he was pleased to see them of course, but he wanted to see one person in particular. The Lady in question was currently in deep conversation with Lord Grantham, and Branson found he couldn't pull his gaze away from Lady Sybil – she looked as beautiful as she had done when he left; older but still as beautiful as ever. He wanted to march over to her and grab her and pull her into his arms, but he couldn't do so, not with Lord Grantham watching over. He found the temptation to do so horrid, and he soon had to break his gaze away. He followed the others inside, before making his way to the garage, sitting in one of his cars to think. Oh how he loved her, but although the world was changing, it wasn't changing enough for both of them to be together.

He did not know how long he sat there, before he heard footsteps nearing the garage. He looked up, only to be in shock. Lady Sybil stood there, a small smile on her face, the sun making her look radiant. He recovered over his shock, and stood up abruptly, leaping out of the car, before bowing slightly before her.

"M'lady," he managed to blurt out, only for Lady Sybil to wave away his remark.

"No need for formalities Branson! Call me Sybil, I'm always telling you to!" She said, laughing and smiling as she cautiously took a few steps closer to Branson. He smiled warmly back at her – oh how she had missed that smile! And his eyes. He had missed everything about him.

"Okay Sybil, you may call me Tom!" He chuckled heartily, before finding his shoes suddenly interesting. He knew he had to tell her – he regretted every day he was fighting he hadn't told her how he felt. He was about to speak before Sybil interrupted.

"Tom I…I need to tell you something. And I don't care what anyone says, or thinks, because this is how I feel and I don't care what society thinks of it," She sighed, taking a breath before looking into Branson's eyes. They shared a silent moment together, before he marched forward and grabbed her hands.

"Sybil, I love you." Sybil gasped, her eyes lighting up and she tightened her grip on his hands. Tom smiled broadly at her, looking deep into her eyes.

"If you would have let me finish!" She said jokingly, squeezing his hand slightly to reassure him, she meant it in good humour, "I love you too Tom. I don't care what people say, I don't care about classes, I jus- "

She didn't get to finish what she wanted to say; she was cut off by Branson pressing his lips on hers. The passion they both had been holding inside was released as the kiss deepened, Sybil's arms wounding around Tom's neck and Tom's around her waist. They only broke apart when the need for oxygen became too much, and they stood there, hearts beating in synch, both smiling broadly. It had finally happened, their feelings out in the open for the taking, and Branson did not want to let Sybil go – he had waited four years for this moment and he didn't want to leave her again. But the reality of the situation hit him, and he loosened his grip slightly, leaving a confused Sybil to look up at him questioningly.

"How are we going to do this Sybil? I love you, but what will your father say? I doubt he'll want you to marry the Irish chauffeur," he chuckled slightly, Sybil joining in. She reached up for his cheek, stroking it – she knew that her father would object against this but they would cross the bridge when it came to it.

"Don't worry about that for now Tom," She said, smiling gently at him, her gaze meeting his, "We'll speak to him in a couple of days, together. I'm sure he'll just want me to be happy!"

Branson made to reply, but Sybil had cut him off by kissing him. She was right – they would talk to Lord Grantham in a couple of days. For now, he was home and he just wanted to spend this moment with Sybil forever.

* * *

After they had entered the house behind the rest of the family, everyone had gathered back out on the lawn – Cora had arranged for tables and chairs to be set up in the November sun; everyone was happily chatting away as the footman went around, offering drinks. Lord Grantham was happily sat talking to his wife, making up for lost time, as was Cousin Isabel with Matthew. Mary had let him go eventually – she knew he had to go and see his mother after so long, and she was talking to Granny. She had dropped hints about her and Matthew, and all she did was smile broadly back. But something was holding her back – the matter of her and Mr Pamuk was still not known to Matthew, and she did not want to lie to him and ruin everything again. She had to tell him – she could only pray that Matthew would understand.

She was grateful when she saw Matthew make his way over to her, with a grin on his face, her heart skipping a beat. He tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned around grinning at him.

"Care for a walk, cousin Mary?"

She happily nodded, before slipping her arm through his arm as he led her away from the commotion of the crowd. They walked happily in comfortable silence, until they reached the familiar bench where they had shared many conversations. They sat down, a silence filling the air before Mary turned to Matthew, fiddling with her necklace.

"Matthew, before anything happens between us, I need to tell you something," she paused, taking in Matthew's look of confusion, "I feel that you must know this."

Matthew looked confused, before smiling and taking her hand.

"I'm all ears," he said softly. Mary nodded before taking a deep breath and looking slowly into Matthew's eyes. She didn't want to bring this up, but she did not want to be dishonest to Matthew. She couldn't be.

"It's about something which happened a long time ago, but I feel you must know," she said softly before continuing, "You remember Mr Pamuk yes?"

Matthew nodded, becoming more and more puzzled by the minute.

"Yes I remember him, and I remember you were quite taken with him!" He chuckled softly, expecting Mary to join him but she was starting to look upset. Matthew stopped chuckling, and cautiously put a hand on her arm, worried by her state, yet confused.

"Mary?"

Mary wiped some unwanted tears away before continuing, her voice shaking with emotion.

"The n-night he died..." She sighed heavily, "He tried to...he tried to…kiss me. He came in my room, I do not know how he found it but I told him to go but he wouldn't listen…" she glanced at Matthew, who seemed to be digesting the information Mary was telling him. She waited for him to say something, anything before she continued.

"I told him to go, but he then pushed me onto my bed and then I could not stop myself. I did not want him there, but yet I found myself attracted to him but I kept telling him to stop." She looked down at her hands, tears flowing freely down her pale cheeks as Matthew looked on. He was angry – how dare he try and do this to his Mary? He placed a hand on her arm again, turning Mary to him.

"He was trying to take advantage of you, the scoundrel!" He was livid, not with Mary but with him, "I do not wish to be disrespectful, but he should not have put you in that position, regardless of you were attracted to him or not!" Mary was amazed – he was not angry with her, and she felt relieved but that was only part of the story. She sighed.

"That is not the full story I am afraid…" Matthew quizzed her with a puzzling look, before she continued.

"Later on, he gave a small cry and went still…I didn't know what was happened, I called his name, shook him but he didn't reply…then I realised he was not breathing."

Matthew was stunned; he had died in Mary's bed? How was this possible he thought?

"But he was found in his own bed, how is that possible?" He questioned, as Mary fiddled with her necklace, her eyes filling up with tears. She did not want to lose Matthew again; she nearly had lost him before, not again.

"Mama and Anna helped me carry him to his room," She let out a small sob as Matthew rose to his feet, clapping a hand across his mouth. Mary looked at him through her tears, defeated – had she now ruined everything once more? How stupid she was! She started crying uncontrollably, waiting for Matthew to say something, to do something, afraid as ever. Matthew saw how vulnerable she was and it broke his heart, and he quickly moved to sit back next to him, pulling her close and kissing her forehead tenderly.

"There there, my dear," He said softly, as the sobs slowly died away. She hiccupped a couple of times, before clearing her throat to speak.

"I'm sorry Matthew…I'm so so sorry. I understand if you loath me-" Matthew interrupted her with a small finger to her lips, smiling softly, his blue eyes reassuring her.

"I don't loath you Mary. I couldn't after everything we have been through, yes I am shocked but-" he paused, taking her trembling hands in his and rubbing them smoothly, trying to reassure her, "I admire how honest you wanted to be with me, and even though it was a while ago now, I am glad I now know. But it does not change my feelings for you." He smiled softly, as Mary looked into his eyes, a small smile appearing on her face, her tears drying. She couldn't believe he understood, but that's what she loved about him – he was always so understanding, no matter what. It made her love him even more than before. Matthew placed a hand on her cheek, before sighing.

"I could never lose you again Mary, never. But I need to know something from you. One word would silence me on the subject forever, and another would make me the happiest man ever to live." He smiled, before stroking her cheek lovingly.

"Do you still mean everything you said four years ago?"

Mary smiled, laughing despite her recent tears, before replying.

"Yes Matthew, I meant everything and I still do! If anything, your willingness to forgive me for what happened has made my feelings for you even stronger than before," Mary said, smiling gracefully at Matthew, who's smile was the brightest smile she had ever seen. He took both of her hands, kissing them softly, before asking the all-important question.

"And will you spend the rest of my live with me, as my wife?"

Mary could have thrown herself into his arms, but she simply smiled, her heart soaring as she replied with the one simple word Matthew had longed to hear for so long.

"Yes."

Matthew felt he was on cloud nine, and he scooped Mary up into his arms, laughing and smiling as she replicated his feelings, before he kissed her with all the passion he could muster. When the need for oxygen became too much, they pulled apart, their fingers interlinked with one another's – his deep blue eyes gazing into her soft brown ones.

"The past doesn't matter now Mary. What matters now is the future, and I plan never to leave you ever again." He smiled broadly at her, before kissing her forehead and pulling her close once more. Both of them sat, counting themselves lucky that they could be together once more after four long years. And that evening was the happiest they had ever known, as their engagement became public knowledge and they could finally relax. Their battle was over, and every time Mary looked at Matthew, her cold exterior melted away as she knew Matthew had changed her for the better. No more petty arguments or jealously with her sisters – now all that mattered to Mary was that she wasn't going to make the same mistake again. She had told him her darkest secret, and he was willing to see past it, willing to love her to her dying days. She had Matthew, and he had her, and she wasn't going to let him go.

Every time Matthew looked at his fiancé, he would thank God a million times over that he was given the chance to be with her once more. He could not be here right now, he could have died in a muddy battlefield in Belgium but instead, he had lived and fought for the chance to come home. Others hadn't been so lucky, William just one example of thousands that never made it home back to their wives and children. Yes, she had kept a dark secret from him, but he did not care – she was not to blame and he only wished he could have been there more to help her. But that was the past now – all that mattered to him was their future together. His heart had skipped a beat when Mary accepted him, and their long battle was finally over. He smiled as he felt a delicate hand slip into his, and gazed down at her with loving and care. They both stood and smiled at one another, and Matthew knew that it would be the two of them now, forever; never to be parted again.


	11. Epilogue

_Here we are then everyone - the final part! It's a bit short but wanted to end this with a big event._

_A BIG thank you to everyone who reviewed this story, favourited it etc - it really meant a lot that my story was being liked by many of you and I hope you have all enjoyed it as much I have enjoyed writing it for you all! I will begin to write more stories but in need of ideas; if you have any, please do not hesitate to mail me. I may write a sequel or just a one-shot to this story in the future so watch this space! :)_

_Thank you all so much again. Your all great! :) x_

* * *

It was a beautiful spring day; the sun was shining, the skies were a clear blue and Downton was buzzing with excitement. A wedding was about to take place in the church, the church were the funeral of late heir took place and it was now the venue of the wedding for the new heir.

Matthew stood nervously at the front of the church, dressed in a crisp suit, waiting for the ceremony to begin. He clasped his hands together in an attempt to distract himself, but he was excited – he was about to get married to the only woman he ever really loved and he couldn't wait. How would have thought it – when he arrived at Downton, they loathed each other. He was rude, he has admitted to himself, but over time they became friends and respected each other before falling in love. He was determined not to let this experience change him, but he soon realised change can be actually quite good. Apart from the war; this was easily the worst experience of his life. He looked amongst the guests that sat in the pews, awaiting the arrival of the bride and Matthew felt a twinge of sadness as he looked amongst the servants and couldn't see William. His death was still saddening to this very day, but life went on. Matthew and Mary had ensured everyone was invited from the big house – the servants right through to the family. The family sat in the front row, Lady Cora sitting next to Lady Sybil and Edith. His mother sat next to Cousin Violet of all people, but since the war, the pair of them seemed to get along in civil fashion - which astonished Matthew. Next to Matthew stood Branson – he had decided to make Branson his best man after everything the pair had been through, and the war had made them good friends. Absurd it seemed, a chauffeur and man of Matthew's class to be good friends but Branson was no longer a chauffeur. A few days after they had arrived home, Sybil and Branson had spoken to Lord Grantham, informing him that they were to marry with his consent. His lordship was (of course) outraged at first, but he had seen the two were indeed in love. He saw Sybil did not care what people thought, and he saw Branson was the same and his consent was given. Matthew smiled to himself as he saw Branson glance towards the front pew, grinning broadly at Sybil who smiled just as broadly back. Matthew looked towards the servants, and he could see Anna and Mr Bates closely together, next to Gwen and Daisy. He was happy now that everyone was reunited, and he was elated that he had this chance to marry Mary. He didn't think he would, as he laid in the trench with a German pointing a gun at his head but no, he was given the chance. And he wasn't going to let her go ever again.

The sound of music suddenly filled his ears, and Matthew began to feel more and more nervous as the guests stood. Branson clapped his shoulders, smiling broadly at him.

"Good luck my fellow."

Matthew slowly turned round, and his jaw dropped down in surprise. Mary was walking towards him, clasping her father's hand as she smiled back at him. She looks beautiful, Matthew thought as he couldn't take his eyes off his soon-to-be wife. She looked radiant in her stunning white dress – he always thought she was beautiful, but she looked stunning as she waltzed up to him. Mary kissed her father on the cheek, and turned to Matthew, smiling softly. Matthew couldn't believe that he was about to marry her, and he smiled broadly as they turned to face each other. The reverend started the service and little more than half an hour later, they walked out of the church, their fingers interlocked as man and wife, as Mr and Mrs Crawley. As the new heir to Downton Abbey.


End file.
